Footsteps in the Rain: Ame no Koe
by Starcrossedsouls
Summary: My first story, about a fifteen year old Alfred and 19 year old Arthur, and Alfred bunks at Arthur's for a bit. Gilbert included tee hee
1. Prologue

Fifteen year old Alfred squinted at his watch; 8:51, it read through the dim lighting of the quarter moon. It had only been about a half an hour since his last break, yet he was already beginning to get tired. Usually, he could last for three hours at most, but his stamina was running low, _deadly_ low. In the clearing, Alfred was an easy target, so in his need for a refuge, he continued to run towards the London lights, his breathing now frantic. Even in the distance, he could still hear the guard's husky breathing, the guard that been tailing him, trying to bring him back to that awful place, that orphanage, since two days ago. The little blond had been trying to lose him for while now, but for some reason, sooner or later, Alfred would begin to hear that pained breathing again.

"Haah..... Hah..." He was panting now. Thinking back, it was a miracle that he even figured a way out of the orphanage, let alone making it this far. He could hold out for a little more, right? That was just his way of saying he didn't even want to think about what would happen to him if he got caught.

Finally, he made it to one of the squares, one especially filled with foliage to be exact. "Well… At least I can rest now," he thought as he clambered towards a gigantic rowan tree, though he really could care less about what kind of tree it was as long as it hid him. From the decreasing sound of sloshing mud, he could assume that the guard had lost his track. The blond sighed in relief. At this point, he was overly grateful for the tree that was blocking the elements. The sky was pouring buckets and as a result, he was drenched.

At this Alfred laughed dryly. "Well, you're in _London_, it's to be expected." Big Ben chimed loudly throughout the streets, as if laughing with him. His stomach gurgled in chorus, making Alfred blush a little. He couldn't even remember the last time he ate. Undoing the zipper on his backpack, he took out a messily wrapped half eaten hamburger. It would have to do, even if it was cold. He was thirsty, too, and his assumption that he could just "drink the rainwater" wasn't turning out well. When Alfred's stomach was soothed, he set off for a warmer place to situate himself in.

He stood himself up again, using the trunk of the tree as support. His legs were barely holding himself up, soaked down to the bone like that and numbingly cold. Feeling a sharp pain as he walked, it was entirely possible that he'd sprained his right ankle, but with the cold, it was hard to tell. None of these held him back from his goal, however.

It was a gopher hole that did him in, in the end. Alfred collapsed into the cold, wet grass. Days of running away and evading the orphanage caught up to him. Using the last of his strength, he curled up, hugging his knees. If this was to be his last stand, he didn't care. He had already escaped with the risk of getting caught. He had already thrown all of his pride away. He just didn't care anymore.

"You there," a voice called, slurred obviously from intoxication. "What're doin' in the rain like that? –hic—"

Alfred could hear the voice clearly, also followed by something—an umbrella?—shielding his face from the pelting rain, but his eyes, as stubborn as ever, would not open for him, for they were overwhelmed with fatigue. Whoever it was that now brushing the hair out of his face, he was definitely not one of the men that was pursuing him. His voice, though slurred, was warm and tender, with a strong, biting British accent.

"C'mon lad, lemme treat you to some tea. It's bloody cold ou' here" the man said again, hoisting Alfred's arm onto his shoulder. The boy tried to match the other's footsteps but fell with each attempt, ending up having to limp along with his good leg. Tired and cold, he nestled his head along the other man's warm shoulder.

Where they were going to, he didn't care. Who the other man was, he didn't care. He had forfeited his will to live long ago.

But that didn't stop Alfred from clutching on to a slender silver lining of hope.

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Hope you liked it~! I personally think it sucks.... BUT! That's for YOU to decide!! Please Rate or Review or whatever it is you do!!


	2. Chapter 1

**Alright!! Here's the First chapter!! (The other one was the prologue=D) It's a bit short, but that's all I can manage for...right now....** Aaaaannnyways!!! Enjoy!

Maybe it was the intolerable smoke that woke Alfred. Or maybe it was the unfamiliar snoring rebounding inside the closed bedroom. But most likely, it was the sudden weight on his hand that woke him up.

The blond fluttered his eyes open; his glasses and watch on the bedside table along with a teacup and saucer, his soaked bomber jacket hung limply on one of the four wooden bed knobs. Immediately, he sat upright, slowly claiming back his arm as he did so. He glanced over to where his hand had once been and saw a man, older than him by just a few years; sound asleep with a content expression on his face.

Alfred tried to get out from under the covers, but now, inside, without the numbing rain, the movement caused his sore ankle to throb, shooting painful pulses up his leg. He took in a sharp breath and tried again, slower this time.

But this time, he was stopped by something seizing his arm.

"Stop it. You can't walk or anything, so don't try." The man, who was now awake, said sympathetically. "It'll only hurt you." Alfred looked at him quizzically, taking in his features at the same time. The two things that stood out from his face were his furrowed eyebrows (which Alfred thought were unnaturally bushy), and his angry emerald eyes.

"Your leg has a huge gash in it, next to your right ankle, and I think you fractured it, too. Honestly, what kind of people would let their children outside in this kind of weather!? When you call them to pick you up, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." he continued. The anger in his words showed on his face, too.

"Ummm…. You don't have to say anything, uhh…. I'm sorry; I don't know your name…" Alfred stumbled with his words as he spoke them.

"OH! I'm sorry! My name is Arthur Kirkland," the other man flustered, "What about your name?"

Alfred kept silent and fumbled his fingers underneath the sheets. Arthur's expression mellowed and handed the boy the teacup. Inside his mind, he cursed himself for not making a better first impression on the boy.

"A-alright, I won't tell them, but still…." He grumbled as the boy took the cup from his hands. There was an awkward silence before Alfred replied.

"Mr. Kirkland, it's not that. I-I don't have any of those….Parents, I mean. That's why I'm here, that's why…" Alfred swallowed, "That's why I ran away." Arthur, at this point, finally noticed the smoke erupting from outside the bedroom and motioned for Alfred to stay on the bed.

"I'll just be out for a bit, so wait there, okay?" Arthur reassured him.

Alfred frowned a bit, feeling as though he were being treated like a kid. He was confused as to why he'd been so…so _polite, _to the other man. It wasn't in his nature, and just plain _strange_. Maybe it was the fear of getting kicked out in the street again, but he had a feeling that something else was there, too.

Frustrated, he shook off the fluffy down blanket on him and set the tea down. His glasses now back on and perched on his nose, he could now clearly see his unfamiliar surroundings. There was an umbrella lying on the carpet and he used it to help him stand up. He limped to the door and pried it open to get to the source of the smoke. Injured or not, he was going to have to get to Arthur and get answers.

In the kitchen, Arthur was handling a tray of disfigured scones on it. As soon as he saw the blond clambering to the kitchen chairs, his lighthearted smile turned into a scowl.

"I thought I told you to stay in the room," Arthur sighed and set the tray down so he could sit with the boy. Now he was starting to get annoyed with himself for letting the boy in his house. Heck, why did he even bother in the first place?!

"You did tell me," Alfred replied bluntly. Then, a sly smile crept across his face "I just didn't listen to you." The older man grumbled under his breath and placed his jaw on his open palm, supporting it with his elbow.

"Ha, ha. You're _so_ mature," Arthur mumbled, "How old are you anyway?!"

"Alfred F. Jones, age 15," the boy teased.

"And already this tall…." the Briton muttered to himself. He grabbed something from under the table and presented it to the boy, his backpack.

"Anyways, it's not 'you,' Jones. It's _Arthur_ to you. Arthur Kirkland, major in mythology," he continued, "In our previous conversation, you mentioned something about running away? Where did you run from? And don't you have anywhere to go?" Alfred, having calmed down a bit, sighed wistfully.

"It's a long story, you sure you want to listen to it?" he whispered. Arthur looked at him with his still-fierce eyes and replied with a confidant "yes."

Alfred sighed again, with a defeated tone to it. There was no shaking him from this, and so Alfred started to retell his life story.....

**HEY!! Thank you for all the reviews so far and thanks to all the people who favorited my story....ect. It really means alot! **


	3. Chapter 2

Aside from the muted rain and the sound of my steady breaths, there was nothing else there that was making a sound besides him. His story from his lips to my ears. Besides that there was nothing there. Besides us. Us…

Snap out it, Arthur. You're not paying attention.

I had mentally slap myself to get myself back to situation at hand.

"…orphanage besides the forest up ahead, near the stream, right? It…wasn't a nice place.…. At all…" Alfred continued softly.

"How so?" I implored hesitantly, not wanting to open up his old scars. Well, not that much anyways.

"I―I don't want to talk about that… Please don't bring that up." the boy replied sharply, his eyes cutting directly Into mine. Bingo.

"Hmmmph... If that's the way you want it. Fine." I scolded myself at how childish that sounded in my ears. A strategy was needed to pry the information out of him… But now wasn't the time for that as Alfred was beginning to start again.

"My brother is there, and… And if I don't go back there, they'll do that to him, too…"

At that, his eyes shot back at mine again, pleadingly, creating a fusion of green and endless pools of blue. And…surely those weren't tears, right? This was serious, then.

I attempted to reach out to him, to at least comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, but my arms faltered, and his eyes sank back down to the wooden table again.

An orphanage, huh? Orphanage… And running away from it… The situation seemed strangely familiar somehow. Like this was pulling something back into my memory…

Oh, no. Oh bloody hell, no. Not this again.

The tray of scones I had been clutching clattered onto the floor, my hands visibly shaking fervently. Everything was a spinning vertigo of colors. Everything was part of a distorted mix of my heartbeat and Alfred's wide-eyed shouts to me. I couldn't "hold on" or "be okay" like he told me to be. I couldn't feel anything or hear anything anymore.

The last thing I remember was collapsing to the cold floor below.

Then, everything went black.

――

A milky fog enveloped me, blinding me and only a few meters ahead could be seen. As if I was being controlled like a puppet, my legs began to run on their own, one step after another. At the same time, it felt as if this wasn't my own body, rather as if I was like a parasite invading myself somehow. Like me being here, but being somewhere else at the same time. It was impossible, right? Yet there I was, like Scrooge visiting his past again, for the body was of a younger version of me.

I tuned into "my" thoughts, wondering if it would help me know where I was.

"I can't let them find me again! If they do, I might not have enough strength to run away," the past me thought.

Them? Even though this was supposedly one of my past memories, I couldn't place the what, when and where of this situation at all.

Or the majority of my childhood for that matter.

All of sudden, I fell to the ground, effectively stopping my train of thought. I urged myself to get up, but like Scrooge, my words remained unheard.

My surroundings began to steadily fade away.

That was when I woke up.

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Okayy.. sorry 4 the late upload! my life is slowly deteriorating!! Short chap again!


	4. Chapter 3

"Hey…Hey!! I think he's waking up!!" a familiar obnoxious voice boomed. "Arthur! You okay?!"

My head was throbbing, but I smiled, knowing who the voice belonged to.

"Gilbert, if you have enough time to ask questions, help me up, you git!"

A firm hand cupped the back of my head and raised me up from the lumpy sofa. I groaned a bit at seeing the bright lights of the morning sun and wished I hadn't had that much to drink last night.

"So, why're you here, fucker?" I joked. Immediately, the mood soured, replacing Gilbert's pleasant smirk with a scowl.

"Where were you yesterday?! I was counting on you to finish my paper for me!" I cringed at the volume, rubbing my temples.

"You went drinking again didn't you? Seriously, my awesome self can't allow this!"

Despite the pain in my head, I had to laugh.  
"Like you're any better, jackass! The only reason you go to school is because Ludwig makes you!"

We laughed a bit until I had a coughing fit, where Gilbert gave me a couple of pills and a glass of water.

Something was different about him today…He seemed…Well, almost nicer, for some reason. He usually would have socked me in the arm, hangover or not. Ah, well, we were friends after all, so I let it pass.

As I swallowed the pills, he mussed up my hair, laughing.  
"If my awesome self hadn't found you, you would have died! Be grateful!"

I blinked and smiled again, gentler this time. Was that a blush on his face? Eh, must be the lighting.

--

Then, realization struck me hard.

"Hey…Where's the kid?! Alfred! Where are you?"

"I'm right here, Arthur. Did you miss me?" the familiar voice purred. A blond head poked out of the kitchen, a sly smirk plastered onto his face that made me regret my concern.

"Hey, who is this kid? He was already here when you checked out," Gilbert asked.

"What's your relationship with Arthur?" He questioned.

Alfred hobbled out slowly, supporting his injured leg while savoring a morsel of toast. He plopped onto the seat next to mine.

"And what's your relationship, huh?" he scowled, directing it towards Gilbert.

I had no idea what was going on, but it obviously had something to do with me. And by no circumstances was I hoping to stay a part of it.

"I've known him since first grade, when my family took him in. Mine!" Gilbert snarled nastily.

What was all this about?

I tugged Gilbert's sleeve, hoping to distract him from the growing tension in the room. That seemed impossible, for the atmosphere was practically choking me. He needed a good yank to finally draw him away.

"Speaking of first grade, something similar to that happened again… I think… that's how I fainted."

His face contorted into a face of pure rage after he heard me.

"You BASTARD! You tried to make him remember, didn't you?!" Gilbert lunged forward to punch Alfred, but I held back his arms just in time, just before impact.

"Nice reaction time as usual, Arthur," a new voice called. "Gilbert, time to go home."

I glanced behind me, towards the hallway, where Ludwig was standing, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, and obviously not impressed with his older brother's attitude and behavior. He raised his eyes to look at Alfred's, as if finally noticing him within the entire ruckus.

"I don't think it's your fault, but you take care of Arthur," he paused to glance at Alfred's ankle. "And yourself for that matter." He advised to him as he dragged Gilbert back.

"I'm the one taking care of him!!" I corrected, but he was already out the door, yanking Gilbert out by his ear.

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Another short chappie~ again... hopefully this will satisfy you... Nyo~ho~ho...

Viet mafioso: OUT


	5. Chapter 4

Out of breath from yelling, I plopped down onto the sofa again, my face probably a vivid red. What did Ludwig mean? I put my head into my palms, leaving just enough space between my fingers to glance over Alfred, who was busy examining his bandage and prodding it.

"Why did you faint, Arthur?" he asked without lifting his eyes up from his wound.

I sighed thoughtfully. Of course he would ask about that. Hmmmmm… I didn't even know the complete truth myself. Why did I faint in the first place? I knew it had to do with my past; I was sure of that. But why did it happen all of a sudden? My still lingering migraine prevented me from thinking about it any longer and I sighed again.

"I seriously don't know lad, but—" I was interupted by the sound of growling stomach. I chuckled. "But I need breakfast." I continued.

I practically ransacked the cupboards in my kitchen, looking for anything to satisfy my needs. In the end, I found only a packet of premade scones—nothing compared to my cooking—but it had to suffice. I wanted to eat now.

I took the packet over to the sofa where I was sitting at only a few moments ago and started to devour the pastries ravenously. It was ungentlemanly, yes, but my hunger was more important at the moment.

In the seat next to mine, I swear I could hear a stifled giggle.

"What?" I mumbled with a full mouth, "I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday's lunch!"

"Didn't that weird guy say you went drinking or something? Anyways, why were you drinking last night?" He looked at me now, with a sullen expression.

I scoffed at his simple question. "Does one need a reason to go a night out on the piss?" I rubbed a stubborn crumb of my face.

"You don't seem like the type to drink without a reason." he looked around the crowded apartment room, then back at me again, as if saying, "It doesn't look like you have enough money to anyways.", the git.

"Well, fine. I'll humor you. It's not like you'll understand, anyways." I grumbled, finally finished with my measly meal.

His eyes perked up at my words, his ears ready to listen to my words.

"Alright, so you already know Gilbert and Ludwig, right? Well, their family took me in when they were still in elementary school. I'm living in an apartment now, as you can tell. And the day before yesterday, Gilbert's dad told me that… He had treated me like he did his two other sons when he took care of me.

"And it just made me think a bit, over a few bottles of liquor, of course. I've done nothing for him, yet I'm still getting the money to pay for my studies from him. 'Does that make me a bad person?' and 'How should I repay him?' were the kinds of questions in my head. I think I even thought about dropping out. The man probably… won't live for another year. He's in bedrest now, Alfred. He's been in the hospital for a year now. And there's no guarantee that he'll ever get out of there."

I was cringing now. Did the old man really have to end like this? It was such an awkward topic to speak with such a young lad.

A light touch brushed against my shoulder.

"Hey… If you don't wanna talk about it," the boy smiled softly, "It's okay."

"Thank you.…Alfred… Really, thank you so much. I've been keeping all this bottled up inside. It was going to have to come out sometime. I'm kind of glad it was you that...."

"I don't want him to die, dammit!" My sobs were mixed into my words, and blended so much together that you couldn't tell if I was yelling or crying or something else altogether.  
"Arthur..." was the last thing I heard him say before he took my head and plunged it into his shoulder blades, the only place where I knew I could cry freely.

And that was the first time, I realized just how warm Alfred was compared to the London cold.

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Can I just get an 'AWWWWW.....' From someone? Honestly, I thought I was gonna cry at one point..... And sorry to those who wanted Seme!UK today, I'm sorry~~! Thank you to Mista MAJIGGERZ for kick my muse back into running order! And AGAIN another short chap.... SERIOUSLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! XD Anyways enjoy, and if you review, you get a England-made COOKIE!!! (It's worth it, trust me. ;P)


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